Chapter Eleven
Zervou spent his day working on the Erjon dilemma. Where was the weasel? He should at least be sending someone traceable to watch Ariadne by now.
Ari.
Friends.
His mind kept returning to that one crystalized moment. Her, wrapped in a sheet, calling them friends after a fashion. The morning light burnishing her skin gold.
Such a small moment. Such a nothing moment. And yet it lodged there like the root of a weed—he could not pull it out completely, so it just stuck there, deep in the recesses of his mind.
And he didn’t know what to do with it, because it wasn’t a problem to be solved. It was simply a moment. What did one do with a moment?
It wasn’t like his father dying in front of him. Not like his mother’s wails as the life drained out of the man she loved. No, even though those were moments he’d never quite eradicated from his mind, they had come with action items. When people died, there were things to do.
When a woman simply asked him to call her by a shortened name, called them friends after a fashion, there was nothing to do.
Except hunt down her father. Lure him out into the light so he could spend the rest of his life in jail.
Then Zervou and Ari could go their separate ways and whatever this strange…
blip was could go with her. Whether she accepted all his help with a positive attitude or that wary distrust, she would still leave him better than she’d been.
She would not be able to deny or negate his help.
And that was a positive.
A knock sounded on his office door, and when he offered a “come in,” Bacchus entered.
“The Paris arrangements have all been made. We have found a rental just outside the city with the required amenities.”
Meaning, a gym from which Ari could do her boxing and whatever other kind of training she desired.
“The plane is ready to leave in the morning,” Bacchus continued. “I will accompany you, but I plan to leave Sebastian behind to continue to lookout for signs of Hyseni if you agree.”
Sebastian ran the Kritikos security for the most part, though everything went through Bacchus, security included.
Zervou tapped his fingers on his desk. It was a good plan. More than likely, Erjon would poke around Corfu or send someone at his behest while they were gone.
It would be a start. It would have to be a start.
“Very well. As for today, I will need you to pick up Ms. Malis at the gym at five this evening,” Zervou told him.
Though he was tempted to handle the errand himself, he thought it wise to give them yet a little distance.
Perhaps she had laughed at the idea that sex last night might be more, but he wanted to ensure she understood.
He had no desire to leave anyone heartbroken, and she was the more vulnerable party here, no matter what she thought.
He had to protect her from herself.
“Yes, sir.”
“Get there a little early. Watch the comings and goings. If someone from Erjon’s camp is watching her, it’s likely to be there, where they might think she’s not being protected or watched. I want a sign of him before we go to Paris. I want to know he has noticed what’s going on.”
“Yes, sir.”
Some rumbling. Some inkling. His plan had to work. And he needed a sign it was. Now.
Zervou sent Bacchus on his way, then made a few calls to check the progress on the stadium. Much was left to be done, but he already had some sporting vendors interested. Eager.
Football, basketball, volleyball. Some wrestling had been discussed. He had not had any meetings with boxing agencies, but his interest was certainly piqued now. Ari’s boxing gym boasted nothing impressive—except her—so he wasn’t sure he wanted to dabble there just yet.
But he thought of watching her just practice. How mesmerizing it all was. With the right marketing, a boxing match could no doubt be a draw. Especially with Ari as the star.
Still, he set that aside for the time being. He had to ensure his Paris trip was a success. He had a man to destroy before he worried about his own successes.
A few hours later, when a call from Bacchus came through his personal cell, Zervou did not know whether to feel victorious or trepidation. A direct call could only mean something had happened.
“Is everything well?”
“Yes, sir. Ms. Malis is getting ready to leave, but I thought you should know. There is a man here loitering outside the boxing gym. I have sent his photograph to Sebastian to be sure, but I believe he is a man from the Petrov family.”
The family Erjon had worked for when he’d murdered Zervou’s father. There had not been a connection there in some time. Zervou had taken care most of the Petrovs himself. He had certainly undercut any power they had as a crime family.
But Erjon had always been his main target. And now what scraps were left of the Petrov family were poking around Erjon’s daughter? Now that she had a connection to Zervou?
It had to be the hint of something he’d been hoping for. No doubt Erjon and the Petrovs would scuttle back into partnership in the bowels of wherever they were hiding from his considerable reach.
“I would like you to go inside the gym and fetch Ari…adne yourself. Make sure this man knows she is protected without necessarily letting on that you recognize him or see him as a threat. Just make it clear to anyone who might be watching that Ariadne has protection.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then put Sebastian on finding any current link between Hyseni and the Petrovs. I want to know every member of the Petrov family still alive and not in jail—and where they’re hiding.”
“Already on it.”
“Excellent.” And it was. Because it was a sign. His plan was working. There was still time to tease it out, but the beginnings had started.
And Paris would be the next step.
Paris. Ari couldn’t believe she was in Paris. Literally every other thought in her mind drifted away as they drove through the city.
She had left Greece. She was in a foreign country seeing things she had never even dreamed of seeing. Even her wildest fantasies didn’t include Paris.
She’d told that to Zervou on the plane.
He’d told her she needed better fantasies.
Perhaps she did.
Ari hadn’t told her mother that they were traveling when she’d talked to her last night. She had just listened to her mother’s progress. Mostly positive, though Maria was already making noises about being all cured and ready to be released.
Her counselors did not agree. So, Mother stayed. Something she did without argument only because she felt guilty, Ari knew.
She’d set her worry aside then, and she set it aside now. She was in Paris. She wanted to focus on that, revel in that.
Still her mind lingered on last night. After she’d hung up with her mother, Zervou had served her dessert. He didn’t say it was meant to be any kind of pick-me-up, but the timing was suspicious. Like he wanted to comfort her in some way.
Maybe that was why she had, yet again, spent the night in his bed.
She hadn’t meant to. She thought there should be some care taken to make sure she didn’t develop a habit that couldn’t been broken.
Sex felt like a dangerous precipice. There was the high of it, the desperation of it. The way those feelings lingered and never seemed to fully disappear. Because even in this car, with Paris all around them, she only needed to think about last night to feel her cheeks warm and her stomach clench.
How could this be different than desiring a drink, one more roll of the dice?
No, she had to be more careful. Stronger.
When the car pulled to a stop, Ari could only stare at the building out the window. It wasn’t a hotel or even an apartment. It was a full-on house, except house wasn’t the right word. An estate like what he had in Corfu. Perhaps a little smaller but just as beautiful.
Trees and flowers and greenery overflowed along the drive and around the entry to the building. It gleamed, windows sparkling, the soft French light making it all seem like some kind of fairy tale.
“Well, this is something,” she managed to say when Zervou came to her side of the car and opened the door, then helped her out into the warm afternoon. She could hear birds chirping and the rustle of the breeze in the trees. There was something spicy in the air.
Maybe she was dreaming.
“Just you wait,” he said, clearly pleased with himself and the mansion he was leading her to.
Up the white stairs. The front door opened, staff already welcoming them inside.
“I want to show you something before we take a rest before dinner,” he said, guiding her with her arm tucked in his.
She followed, speechless. Gigantic paintings dominated huge white walls… Beautiful views from every towering window, even as he led her down a set of stairs into what couldn’t possibly be called a basement. It was too big, too nice, too grand.
He opened a door, drew her into a large room and flipped on the lights.
She surveyed her surroundings in utter shock.
“It should be everything you need to stay for as long as we like,” Zervou said proudly.
It was. More than she’d come to expect, even from him. It was a fully equipped gym with a boxing ring at the center. Everything was newer and nicer than anything at her home gym.
She took a few steps toward the boxing ring. It shouldn’t be amazing. He was rich. But this was…more than she’d expected. She wouldn’t have to fight to have the time and place to train. It was all right here.
It did something to her lungs. Squeezed them tight. Discomfort and excitement twined into a feeling she didn’t recognize, didn’t want. It was too weighty and complicated.
Because she wanted this and knew she shouldn’t. She trusted him not to use it like a lure, and she shouldn’t.
She was moved and shouldn’t be.
Grow some spine, Ari. She tried. Tried so hard to harden a shell around a strangely soft heart as she turned to face him. She could not offer gratitude, though she should. Gratitude could be used against her, and she had to be unaffected. By this. By him.